


a sky full of light and none of them stars

by Rhovanel



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Character Study, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Melancholy, Minor Injuries, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, or as slow as you can manage in 3k words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 18:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhovanel/pseuds/Rhovanel
Summary: There's more than one way to know someone in this sad, broken world; as many as the lights in the sky.





	a sky full of light and none of them stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



When Aloy was younger, Rost had taught her how to map the age of fallen trees by the rings inside their trunks. She had traced the lines with her hands, counted the seasons with careful strokes, amazed at the history unfolding beneath her fingertips.

“They’re full of stories,” she’d murmured with wonder, and Rost had laughed.

“I suppose they are,” he’d replied, but his gaze grew distant as he watched her trace the scars. “Not all of them good.”

She often thinks about that day when she uses her Focus. Just like the tree rings, it fills her with the thrilling feeling of seeing through time, of grasping the hidden histories of the world.

It’s a shame it doesn’t work on people.

* * *

**_vision_ **

Meridian makes her feel strange. 

She’s always had a spark of curiosity burning in her soul, and Meridian sets it alight. Everywhere she goes, she sees something new and strange and wondrous - unfamiliar fruit, new weapons, and so many, many people.

She knows how to move with the environment instead of against it: turning her body so she doesn’t snag her clothes against a branch, grasping a ledge to pull herself up a rock face. But she can’t quite master the art of walking through a world filled with people, and she feels awkward and out of place as she bumps into people and collides with carts laden with goods.

Sometimes she wonders if she sees a glimpse of herself in the crowd. A version of herself from another life, someone who fit neatly with the crowded community of the city.

 _It’s obvious you don’t belong in this backwater_ , Erend had told her. _I mean, look at you._

She turns her Focus on, half expecting to see her other self walking through the city with confidence and clarity. She looks at her hands, and wonders what Erend had seen in her. Whoever it was, it’s not her.

A babble of noise greets her as she turns a corner, and she pauses at the back of the crowd, trying to see what the fuss is about.

“What’s happened?” she asks the woman standing next to her.

“A drunk fell out of a window,” she mutters. “Not worth stopping for.”

Aloy’s heart sinks with a feeling of dread, and she pushes her way through the crowd. Sure enough, there’s Erend, propped against the wall, one arm awkwardly cradled against his body.

He raises his head as she crouches down in front of him.

“Erend,” she sighs. “What have you done this time?”

“Missed a step,” he mumbles. “S’fine, really.”

She looks at his arm. “Have you broken anything?” 

“My reputation in the eyes of a beautiful woman, maybe,” he says, and she groans.

“Come on, let’s get you up,” she says, but he waves his good hand at her.

“No, just go.”

“Erend…” she begins.

“Aloy, I know you mean well, but I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

“Just…just leave me to lick my wounded pride in peace.”

“Erend,” she says again, but he cuts her off angrily.

“Don’t you have more important things to be doing?”

“Alright,” she says, and stands up. “I’ll leave you to it.”

But she turns and looks back as she reaches the crowd, catching one last glimpse before he’s lost to the throng of people. She wonders if he has a shadow self, too: a ghostly after-image of different choices and luckier pathways that haunts his every step.

She spies the telltale shimmer of a campfire out of the corner of her eye, and her attention snags on it like her body catches against the pulse of the crowded streets. She turns and strides away.

* * *

**_sound_ **

She’s sitting on the top of a rock formation, sharpening her arrow heads, when she hears the telltale clank of metal from the path below. She raises her head to see Erend approaching in the distance, his armour shifting noisily with every one of his long, rolling strides.

A week ago she’d crossed paths with one of his scouts, who'd shared rumours of strange corrupted machines in the area. She’d sent word back to Erend to ask him to meet her, in the hope that they might learn something that would lead them to Ersa. 

The rendezvous was a full day ago. He’s late.

Somewhat petulantly, she waits until he’s directly underneath her, then grapples down the side of the cliff to land directly in front of him.

His scream is one of the most satisfying sounds of her life.

“Erend,” she says calmly, neatly tying her grappling hook to her belt. 

“Aloy!” he gasps. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah,” she replies with a smile. “I figured.”

Erend shakes his head. “Do you make a habit of leaping to your death in front of all your friends?” he asks.

“Only the ones who have kept me waiting for a full day.”

“Sorry,” he says, and drops his gaze to fumble awkwardly with his pack. “I…made a calculation error.”

She wonders if that calculation involved alcohol, but bites her tongue at the look of genuine shame on his face.

“Come on,” she says, and they fall comfortably into step together, Erend’s armour clanking with every one of their steps.

“With all the noise you make, it’s a wonder you’re still alive,” she says, glancing over.

“That’s the point of the Vanguard,” he replies, banging his fist on the front of his armour, and ignoring her wince at the noise. “Gotta let them know we’re coming.”

“Who, death?”

Erend clutches his chest dramatically. “She wounds me,” he exclaims, and she rolls her eyes at him.

They walk for a time in companionable silence, before Erend speaks again. “I really am sorry, you know,” he says quietly. “I mean, you’ve got more important things to be doing than wasting your time with me. Saving the world is a full time job, right?”

There’s a real bitterness discernible beneath his jovial tone, and her heart lurches. “It’s fine,” she says quickly. “ Really. I was just worried, I guess.”

His eyes light up. “Aw, Aloy,” he begins with a grin, and she immediately regrets her sympathy. “Were you trying to throw yourself into my arms?”

“Maybe next time you’ll catch me,” she retorts, and Erend throws back his head and laughs. 

His laugh is as loud and obnoxious as the rest of him. But she finds herself seeking it out again and again, letting it fill a space she didn’t realise was empty.

* * *

**_taste_ **

Aloy skirts around the edge of the camp, quietly collecting herbs for her medicine pouch. She doesn’t really need to do this now - there’ll be plenty of time in the dawn. But she’s here with Erend and some of his Vanguard, and she feels awkward and out of place in the face of their easy camaraderie.

“Aloy!” Erend calls suddenly. “Stop skulking around out there and come and sit down.”

“I’m not skulking,” she calls back, but she closes her pouch and returns to the fire.

Erend gives the man sitting next to him a shove. “Bast, move over, you great lump,” he says, then pats the space next to him, raising an eyebrow at Aloy.

She sighs, but goes and sits next to him, warming her cold hands. She can feel the muscles in her back begin to relax, and she shifts a little closer to the fire.

“Here,” Erend says, handing her a bottle.

She takes it tentatively “What is it?”

“The Oseram are good at three things: arguing, working steel, and brewing. I know you've experienced the first two - figured it’s time to complete the hat trick.”

“You made this?” she asks. 

“Yeah, I used to brew these with my cousins back home.”

She raises the bottle to her lips, then stops with a frown. “Is it really a good idea to drink while we’re hunting?”

“Of course not,” Erend says. “But I guess I’ve never been very smart.”

Aloy pauses. She doesn’t want to be rude, but she doesn’t like the thought of dulling her capacities.

“Also, it’s not alcoholic,” he adds, and laughs at her indignant expression. “Ha! Should’ve seen your face!”

“Yes, alright,” she mutters. 

“I’m not going to get you drunk while you’re leading us through the wilderness!” Erend exclaims, still laughing.

She shakes her head, turning back to examine the bottle.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says gently. She raises her eyes to look at him, and her breath catches slightly at the look of affection on his face. She’s never had a companion who made space in their routines for her own preferences.

It makes her feel _bigger_ , like she’s expanding to fill a space she didn’t know was hers, like letting go of a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

“Alright,” she says.

She takes a sip, then grimaces uncontrollably. Erend howls with laughter. 

“Ugh,” she splutters. “It’s so bitter!”

“It’s an Oseram brew,” he chuckles. “What did you expect, sunshine and sweetness?”

She takes another sip, then another, and finds that the more she drinks, the more she likes it. Beneath its initial bitterness, she can taste something malty and smooth, something pleasantly spicy, and maybe even a hint of fruit.

Erend is watching her closely.

“It’s nice,” she says, and the smile that lights up his face is brighter than the flare of the campfire.

“See, it’s not so bad, once you get used to it.”

 _No_ , she thinks, as she watches Erend smile at her through the smoke of the fire. _Not so bad at all._

* * *

**_smell_ **

“Stop poking the fire,” Aloy sighs. They’re camped at the top of a ridge in the Longroam, after days of clearing out Glinthawk nests. “Honestly, Erend, can’t you just sit still for a moment?”

Erend drops the stick he’s been jabbing into the flames.

“Nervous?” Aloy asks.

He rolls his shoulders. “Don’t you feel exposed out here?”

She shrugs. “Not really. I’ll hear anything that sneaks up on us - machines make almost as much noise as you do.”

“Very funny,” Erend mutters. “But don’t…don’t you ever feel so damn small under all this sky?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Of course you don’t,” he says.

She shifts slightly closer to him, her curiosity sparked. “You’re frightened of the sky?” she asks.

He sighs. “It’s not the sky, Aloy. I just…I guess I’ve spent my whole life trying to be bigger, you know? The Carja rebels, the Vanguard, even my relationship with my sister.”

He picks up his stick and prods the fire again.

“Gotta take up space or else you’ll be overlooked, right?”

She understands instantly. They’re not so dissimilar, she thinks. They’re both trying to find a way to prove their worth in a world that has taught them the opposite. But where Erend swells to fill the awkward spaces in his life, she shrinks from hers, making herself smaller and quieter and less visible.

She thinks suddenly of Rost, and wonders if people are as scarred as the landscape they walk through. She wonders whether there are any good stories left to tell.

Maybe it’s the quiet intimacy of campfire conversation, but she finds herself telling Erend about her childhood, about the stones and the taunts and the silence of a shunned life.

They talk long into the night, and she falls asleep under the stars feeling more relaxed than she has in a long time.

An unfamiliar smell fills her nostrils when she wakes. Opening her eyes, she realises that Erend has covered her with one his blankets sometime in the night.

It smells like the oil he uses to polish his armour - slightly smoky and resinous. It’s different to the scents she’s familiar with, but it’s nice, somehow. 

She glances over to where Erend is snoring slightly, and gives him a gentle shove.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” she says, and he groans and mumbles something incoherent, before sitting up, rubbing his eyes. His hair sticks up at odd angles, and she snorts with laughter.

“What?”

She waves an arm at his head. “Careful,” she says, “if your hair sticks up any more, I might mistake you for a Lancehorn.”

“Ha ha,” Erend mutters, “very funny.” But as she turns away to check the coals, she sees him hastily smooth his hands over his head before standing and stretching with a sigh.

“Thanks for the blanket,” she says, handing it back.

“Sure you don’t want to keep it?” He waves a hand at the sky. “Smells like snow out there.”

“I’m Nora, remember?” she says. “I’m used to the cold.”

But she steals a pot of his oil before they part. If she rubs it into her own blankets before she sleeps, well, she tells herself, it’s just because she’s trying to mask her own scent from predators.

She doesn’t believe a word of it.

* * *

**_touch_ **

“Remind me again where we’re going,” Erend says, as the two of them make their way up to the top of a plateau in the Gatelands.

“I didn’t tell you in the first place,” she replies. “It’s a surprise.”

Erend makes an exasperated noise. “You know I trust you, Aloy, but this had better be worth it.”

She hoists herself up and over the final ledge, and sure enough, there’s a metal flower on the top of the plateau, right where the map said it would be.

She kneels down next to the flower, touching it reverently. 

“What does it do?” Erend asks curiously from over her shoulder.

She shrugs. “Nothing, I think. It’s just a remnant, like everything else.”

“Wait, isn’t there a man in Meridian who buys these?” Erend laughs suddenly. “Aloy, did you make me climb all the way up here as part of some back-alley venture scheme?”

“No!” she exclaims. “I just…I don’t know, I like them.”

“You like them,” Erend repeats.

“There’s a mystery here. Haven’t you ever been fascinated by something you didn’t understand?” She runs her hands over the flower again. “Something beautiful and mysterious?”

Erend doesn’t respond, and when she looks up, he’s looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

“I…guess so,” he mutters, then drops his gaze back to the flower.

Before she can formulate a reply, she hears a telltale roar, and turns to see a Trampler charging across the plateau.

She flings herself out of the way, but Erend is too slow. He hits the ground hard, and his cry of pain sends a stab of terror through her heart.

She takes out the Trampler with some freeze bombs and well-placed arrows, then rushes to where Erend is struggling to sit up. A wave of relief washes over her, but as she gets closer, she sees that one of his arms hangs uselessly by his side.

She helps him into a sitting position. 

“I’m going to look at your arm, okay?” she tells him, and he grunts in response.

She runs her fingers as softly as she can over his shoulder, but he winces with pain. She thinks it's dislocated, but she needs to be sure.

“I’m going to take off your shirt,” she tells him, and his eyes snap to hers.

“What?” he gasps.

She grabs a knife from her belt and slices his shirt, pulling it down to expose the skin of his shoulder.

“Hey, that was a good shirt!” he exclaims indignantly.

“I’ll get you another one,” she says, then runs her hands over his shoulder. It’s definitely dislocated. She’s going to have to distract him so she can pop it back into place.

He gasps with pain as her fingers prod into his shoulder. _Keep him talking_ , she thinks.

“So, about that surprise…” she begins.

“I’ve had better,” Erend replies.

“What, better than ending up shirtless on the top of a rock plateau with me?”

He makes a noise that could be a laugh or a grunt of pain. “You know, Aloy, if you wanted to tear my clothes off, you could have just asked me.”

“Hmmm…” she smiles. “Next time.”

His jaw falls open, and she takes the opportunity to wrench his shoulder back into place. He makes an inarticulate cry, but his breathing steadies, and she knows she’s done it properly.

“Surprise,” she says quietly, and he groans.

She’s suddenly acutely aware of her hands on his body. She can feel the warmth of his skin, and the strength of his muscles. Her cheeks grow hot, and she drops his hands.

“Okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he replies.

She pulls him into a standing position, but before she can let go of him, he reaches out and covers their clasped hands with his other one.

“What would I do without you,” he says quietly, and she doesn’t know if it’s a question or not.

“Well, you’d still have a shirt, I guess,” she responds, and he chuckles before wincing with pain.

“Sorry,” she says quickly. “I’ll stop trying to make you laugh.”

“No,” he says. “Not ever.”

He squeezes her hand with his fingers and he squeezes her heart with his smile, and she feels a whole world opening up at the edge of her fingertips.

* * *

**_vision, again_ **

She excuses herself from the victory party in Meridian early, quietly disappearing into the night. The reverent expressions of the people around her turn her stomach. She’s seen what happens when people have too much power, and she wants no part of it.

Besides, she’s just saved the world. She deserves to do something for herself.

She hears the telltale clank of metal as she’s carefully loading the last of her herbs into her medicinal pouch.

“There you are,” Erend says. “I was worried we’d miss each other.”

“With all the noise you make? Not likely,” Aloy replies.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she says softly. “The world’s still here, and I have some unfinished business.”

He frowns at her.

“I’ll be fine, really.” She nudges his shoulder with her own. “Are you worried about me?”

“Always,” Erend replies instantly, and she feels something twist in her gut.

“I got you something,” he says, holding out his hand.

Nestled in his palm is a tiny metal flower attached to a chain. She reaches out to take it.

“The finest Oseram steel,” he says.

“Did…did you make this? For me?” she asks with wonder.

“I had some help,” he replies, holding up his hands. “I’m not really built for delicate work.”

“Erend, this…this is beautiful. Thank you.”

She raises her head to look him in the eyes. “Really.”

His face unusually serious.

“Aloy, I…” he trails off with a sigh, before rubbing a hand over his face. “Just…look after yourself, would you?”

She looks at his eyes. She doesn’t need a Focus to see what lies within them. His face is as open as any landscape, if you know how to read it. 

She takes a step closer. And she does know how to read it, she realises. She knows the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and how the set of his jaw betrays his anxiety. She knows how he bites his lip when he’s nervous, and how he raises his eyebrows when he teases her. 

But more than that, she knows the sound of his laughter, and the gentle touch of his hand, and the comforting scent of his clothes, and the taste of a bitter brew that’s more complex than it seems.

She raises her chin and waits, a challenge in her eyes.

He leans forward and kisses her.

She’s never kissed anyone before. It should be disgusting, really. His beard tickles her cheek, and she can taste the alcohol he must have been drinking at the celebration. But his lips are soft and gentle against her own, and his hand reaches up to cup her face gently.

When they break apart, he leans his forehead against hers.

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispers, then takes a step back. “Don’t get in too much trouble without me.”

“Ha!” Erend laughs. “Do you know me?”

“Yeah,” she replies, reaching out to run her fingers along his cheek. “I think I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as a gift for [reverie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/reverie), for the 2018 Chocolate Box Exchange. reverie asked for a story about how Aloy's perception of Erend changes over the course of the narrative, and I suppose I interpreted that rather literally. Thanks for the great prompt!
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the Gang of Youths song "The Deepest Sighs, The Frankest Shadows."
> 
> The summary is a homage to the final line of Ken Liu's sublime short story, "An Advanced Reader's Picture Book of Comparative Cognition" from _The Paper Menagerie_.


End file.
